Sdtrk: ‘Fourth of July’ by Galaxie 500

As it was the first Sunday after Labo(u)r day, Mari, the lads and I were going to hit the Battle of the Brits event over at Freedom Hill, and stroll amidst numerous parked MGs, classic Mini Coopers of all stripes, and that one bloke who always brings his DeLorean. Not this year, though! O, no no. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Pretty much late Friday, it’d been raining quite a bit in the SE Michigan area, the fact of which can undoubtedly be blamed on Hurricane Ike, which is currently paying a visit to my friend Jaems over there. Despite being several states away from Texas, Michigan’s weather stability is as fragile as glass. You’re familiar with the whole ‘a butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and China explodes’ analogy? That’s pretty much par for the course with Michigan. A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere, and over here, the very ground erupts, belching forth random superheated jets of steam. It could be worse, obviously, but still. Aside from that, someone needs to find that butterfly and kill it, if it cannot be contained through ordinary means. So when I woke up (late) on Saturday, it’d already been pissing down for hours, with no end in sight until Monday-ish, according to the weatherman.

Now, with the Battle of the Brits, the programme directors stick to that date, rain or shine, despite the fact that as they only hold it for one day in an open-air area. Which seems, I dunno, fucking dumb? I can understand that strolling amidst a passel of Minis in the rain would accurately replicate being in damp ol’ Engerland, but would you want that? They’ve been holding this event for years; surely they could find a venue with a roof? At any rate, we were crossing our fingers, hoping for a turnaround with the weather for Sunday.
So as I’d said, it’d been pissing down all day, and I had nearly finished getting ready for hanging out wi’ the lads like we do every Saturday eve. Round 5pm, I was looking up stuff online about the esoteric UK Seventies telly series ‘Children of the stones‘, and waiting for Zip Gun to swing round and pick me up, when I heard a muffled explosion in the near distance. Nothing huge; just a sound you’d perhaps expect from an engine block detonating. Seconds later, the power at Deafening silence Plus went out. Following that, about a minute later, I heard my neighbours emerge from their apartments, asking if the power had gone out. Answer: yes. Turns out a transformer blew across the road, killing the power to our little complex. The landlord’s understudy (don’t ask) informed us that Edison would have it taken care of in about three hours, which was okay with me, as I was heading out anyway. Although I didn’t get a chance to shave, but I’d live. So as I had about twenty minutes to kill before ZG’s appearance, I uncharacteristically took my folding stool outside and finished reading my copy of J.D Salinger’s ‘Franny and Zooey’. Lovely book, highly recommended.

After Zip Gun picked me up, we then sped out to aneamo’s place to pick him up, then we hit the local Steak n Shake for dinner, which is something we’d not done in years. Following that, we made a tactical strike on an area Meijer, and then a GameStop, so I could buy Yakuza 2, which just came out last week. Lovely game, highly recommended. Any game that crosses exploring a small Japanese metropolis with the ability to beat a man to death with a bicycle is pretty highly-ranked in my book.
The three of us converged on SafeT’s humble abode, meeting up with goshou who’d already been there for a while, and alternately played retro videogames, petted his cats and dogs, and watched ‘Logan’s run’, until roughly two in the morning. Before we took off, the lot of us had pretty much come to the conclusion that since we were still in the midst of la deluge, that we’d give the Battle of the Brits a miss and move on with our lives, as it would most likely be raining tomorrow as well.

Well, guess what?

I woke up round 11am, which was really surprising, as I’d a) not bothered to set the alarm, b) Shi-chan failed to wake me up (which happens more often than you’d think), and c) I’d gone to bed at 7am, due to punching and kicking my way through Yakuza 2 the night / morning before. Not only was the pavement dry, but it was actually a sunny 75°F out. Huh! Huh.
So rather than the report I was going to write up concerning the Battle of the Brits, you get this instead! To finish, enjoy this pic of Your Humble Narrator, taken by Monti, when we attended the 1998 BotB.

Mine would be black with silver stripes. And central air

As for me, it’s back to Yakuza 2! After all, those cheap punks won’t hit themselves with lead pipes, no matter how politely you ask

Sdtrk: ‘Today’s rhythm people’ by The Focus group

Hrrm. Is anyone else here somewhat disappointed that, upon activation yesterday, the Large Hadron Collider didn’t spawn a cluster of black holes, thereby compressing this miserable planet into gravel in moments? Go on, raise your hands

Sdtrk: ‘William, it was really nothing’ by the Smiths

It had to happen eventually. Actually, this sort of thing’s happened before, but I can’t locate a link to a previous reported instance at the moment. So won’t you just facepalm along with me, and read this instead?

Japanese murder investigators fooled by life-sized sex doll
Justin McCurry in Tokyo
guardian.co.uk | Tuesday September 02 2008 17:12 BST

Police in Japan have been left red-faced by an apparent murder that turned out to be an unusual case of mistaken identity.

It began in the morning with a frantic call from a couple who had spotted a “corpse” while out walking their dog in a mountain forest in Izu, central Japan, the ZakZak news website reported today.

Fifteen officers were dispatched to the scene, where they discovered a human form wrapped in plastic and tightly bound around the neck, midriff and ankles, with hair protruding from one end.

The body was left untouched and taken away for examination, and the crime scene duly secured by a police cordon.

Back at the local police headquarters, officials notified reporters who had turned up early the same morning to cover an annual earthquake drill. They began preparing to write up the launch of a major murder investigation.

Dozens of extra officers were dispatched to interview potential witnesses, while the evening edition of the local newspaper carried a report of the gruesome find, complete with a photograph of the body’s resting place.

By mid-afternoon, the body was in the hands of police pathologists. But when they sliced open the wrapping, they were confronted not by a decomposing corpse, but by a life-sized sex doll.

A police spokesman apologised for the commotion but defended his officers, saying they had simply been following protocol by leaving the concealed “body” untouched until it was in the hands of pathologists.

Though no crime had been committed, the spokesman could not resist admonishing the doll’s mystery owner. The doll, he told bemused reporters, showed signs of repeated use.

“Our guess is that the owner didn’t want to take a risk by throwing it away with the rest of his rubbish,” he said. “It was an incredibly irresponsible thing to do.”
photo source is here

Going by the detail and the skintone of her (very cute) feet, she kinda looks like either a RealDoll or a My Party Doll. Frankly, the pathologists should’ve consulted a professional.
Ahem.

The way I see it, this silly fuckwit had five options. He could’ve:
1. sold her (yes, there’s a market for that sort of thing)
2. given her a decent burial
3. run her round to Shimizu Kannon-do in Ueno park, where Orient industry consecrates Doll souls twice a year as a Buddhist memorial service
4. wrapped her up, flung her into the woods, waited for the subsequent CRAZY MEDIA EXPOSURE, and giggled for a week straight, or
5. sent her round to Ronald Dotson, as I hear he could use the company.
Can you guess which one our idiot friend went with?

Wow. Someone just won some bonus punches, as far as I’m concerned. Not out of spite or anger, mind you, but purely to teach him an abject lesson

EDIT (19 SEPT): A pleasant follow-up!

Sdtrk: ‘Syncopot’ by Ron Geesin

Four days into the month, and it looks like a slim showing of news. Perhaps things will pick up, though… I mean, apart from Simroid-chan and Holon-chan, what’s Kokoro Co. Ltd been up to? Or KITECH, for that matter? Didn’t Baeg Moon-hong promise that EveR-3 would be making her debut before we see the back of 2008?? And should I even enquire about the company that brought the world Dion? Don’t tease us, people; it’s impolite…

So what have we got for September? We have

+ a new model of Personal Companion by the name of Brandi-Lynn, from the good blokes at 1st-PC.

CAUTION: does not come with hairbrush

At 5’5″ and around 55 lbs, boasting measurements of 36.23.35, she seems rather pleasing! And to me, she bears a passing resemblance to Heather Graham. I think it’s the hair. Put her in a pair of rollerskates — the old-style ones, not the inline kind — and see if I’m wrong…

+ Phoenix Studios, as expected, has added yet another sexy Boy Toy to their sexy stable.

CAUTION: pointy hair

Miss September is an enticing lass, I’d say. And did you notice that she’s got, err, more to offer in the bust department? ‘I come with enhanced breasts at no extra charge!’ she says. That’s a pretty positive selling point, so you have to admire her initiative.

+ And rounding out this month’s report is a personal item; this Sunday past, I was once again the subject of a blitzkrieg ten-minute interview conducted by Tanya Gold, for The Independent, a newpaper from the UK. She’d sent an Email asking if I’d be willing to speak about being Sidore’s long-suffering husband, so I naturally said Yes. At the very least, it should be interesting; for one, she seemed genuinely startled when I mentioned that my ideal partner would be a walking, talking Gynoid… I mean, who knew, right? *gestures to ‘Shouting etc etc’ in general*
She tells me the article should materialise sometime next week, and of course, once I know, you lot will know. You know?

Technorati tags: Simroid, Holon, Kokoro Co. Ltd., KITECH, 1st-PC, Phoenix Studios, Boy Toy Dolls

Sdtrk: ‘Silver sands’ by Stereolab

Sometimes when I oversleep, my subconscious tends to get all crazy. Of course, I mean moreso than usual.
I’ve just awakened after having a dream that Franz Ferdinand‘s Alex Kapranos was half-jokingly teaching me how to box. Now Franz Ferdinand’s music is pretty fab, but somehow I don’t really picture Alex being the next Sonny Liston. So he’s probably at about the level of boxing skill I could muster, frankly

Sdtrk: ‘Shakespeare’s sister’ by the Smiths

Well, this certainly speaks to me:

Be sure to visit the cartoonist’s site, the rut. No, that’s what it’s called

Sdtrk: ‘Kangaroo’ by This mortal coil

It’s long been a goal of mine to learn multiple languages, as obviously it can open up several new venues for a person. In order, I’d love to master Japanese, German, French, and Gaelic (both Scottish and Irish). Hell, why not throw in Lapine, the language the rabbits spoke in ‘Watership down’, as well, cos if I somehow manage to free up enough time in my life to learn five additional languages, I might as well make it six. But it’d be fantastic: Japanese would enable me to understand all that Japanimation that I watch; German would let me translate Laibach lyrics; French, so I could watch unadulterated episodes of ‘Belle et Sébastien’, and Gaelic, so I could ken what the living hell’s being said on this webpage.

Arbh fhearr leat bábóg nó bean?!
Le Ciara Nic Gabhann

Is ait an mac an saol, rud a fhíoraíonn lucht ceannaithe Real Dolls go paiteanta. Tugann Ciara Nic Gabhann léargas ar na fir arbh fhearr leo caidreamh a bheith acu le bábóg ná le fíorbhean.

Tagann an ráiteas “there’s nowt as queer as folk” chun cuimhne agus mé ag meabhrú ar an scannán Lars and the Real Girl, a bhí le feiceáil i bpictiúrlanna le gairid.

Sa scannán seo insítear scéal fir óig, Lars (Ryan Gosling), a bhfuil cónaí air i mbaile beag. Is duine é Lars a mbíonn faitíos uafásach air agus é i gcomhluadar – comhluadar ban ach go háirithe – agus mar gheall air seo, seachnaíonn sé gach saghas caidrimh. Labhraíonn comhghleacaí dá chuid leis lá amháin faoi mhainicíní sileacóin, ar a dtugtar Real Dolls, atá múnlaithe i bhfíorchruth mná. I ngan fhios d’aon duine, ordaíonn Lars ceann de na bábóga ar an idirlíon.
the rest of the article is here

It’s about Dolls and iDollators, and mentions me and the Missus in extant (looks like it quotes that pack of lies known as the Marie Claire UK article) as well as ‘Lars etc etc’, and the language burns my brain.
Would any of you lovely readers out there happen to know Gaelic, by any chance? I’d use Babelfish, but as you know, that’s sometimes akin to putting a language in a blender, and drinking the results. Any takers? I’ll name a kitten after you!*

*note: the kitten won’t actually be mine, as our apartment doesn’t allow pets